


And the love that we're living

by Kitty September (KittyAug)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Background Relationships, Background Slash, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Lights, Crushes, F/F, First Kiss, Inflatable Santa Abuse, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mistletoe, Post-High School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 12:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5540918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyAug/pseuds/Kitty%20September
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: The holidays could be a beautiful time with lights, decorations, and the one you love. Or it could all go very wrong and end with you bashing an inflatable Santa.</p><p>Charlie Bradbury is not having a good day. But don't worry, it gets better.</p><hr/><p><a href="http://sapphicas.tumblr.com/">SPN Femslash Holiday Exchange</a> gift for the lovely <a href="http://endellionaeternus.tumblr.com/">Endellionaeternus</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	And the love that we're living

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Endellion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endellion/gifts).



> The title is from the song _Spirit of Christmas_ by Ray Charles.
> 
> This was a very last minute pinch hit - so I really hope it works!

Charlie Bradbury is having a bad day. And it's Christmas, so that really isn't fair at all.

She didn’t know it was going to be a bad day when she got up this morning. In fact she thought it was gonna be pretty awesome. Charlie loves Christmas. And this particular Christmas is a particularly important one for her best friend and roommate, one Dean Winchester.

Dean had decided that this year they would host Christmas dinner for the entire extended Winchester clan. Charlie agreed. She’s agreeable. It’s a virtue. Also, this is a big one for Dean, and Charlie has always been keen on some vicarious joy and romance, which is the only sort she’s likely to get this holiday season. So she had woken up excited.

She should have known better.

By 10:00 am Dean was swearing. There had been a loud smashing sound from the kitchen. Charlie, like the hero she is, had gone in to brave the mess.

Glass. Everywhere. Check. Swearing roommate. Check. Half stuffed turkey. Check. Volunteering to go on a Christmas morning liquor run. Check.

It was that last one that proved she was the best friend ever. Unfortunately it also spelled the downfall of the rest of her day.

It seemed like everyone else in Kansas had decided to go to the one open liquor shop in the area. Because apparently they live in a state full of alcoholics. Which, if you consider the Winchesters kind of makes sense.

Charlie is dawdling over the sherry selection when she takes a step backward and knocks into someone. A really, really hot someone. Oops.

“Oh I am so sorry,” the woman says, looking up at Charlie with big blue eyes and dark hair and- oh shit. That is almost certainly Sarah frigging Blake. Charlie’s unobtainable high school crush is standing there in the fortified wines aisle looking like a sex dream come to life. Charlie blushes. Because Charlie’s clever like that.

“Um,” Charlie says, articulate as ever.

“Charlie?” Sarah says, because of course she’s got to recognise her. It’s not like Charlie can just clumsily die or something, nope, no such luck.

“Hi!” Charlie says. Still blushing like a frelling virgin and failing at words. “Merry Christmas!” she tries with only marginally obvious desperation.

Sarah smiles at her. Oh wow, that still has the same inside mushing effect it did ten years ago. Good to know.

“Merry Christmas,” Sarah says, voice rich and honey sweet to Charlie’s ears. “Are you back for the holidays or…”

Or did you never get out. Well, fine, maybe Charlie did stay in Lawrence. But it’s not like she doesn’t have a great career from her living room thank you very much, remote commute for the win.

“Nah, I’m living here. With Dean Winchester?” Even Charlie's not sure why that comes out as a question, maybe because she’s pretending to not be sure if Sarah remembers Dean. Everyone remembers Dean. Especially the women. Sigh.

“Oh,” Sarah says, looking so confused that Charlie realises what that must have sounded like.

“Oh god! Not like that!” Charlie has to suppress a shudder at the mere thought.

“Oh, good!” Sarah lights back up and Charlie’s heart sinks again.

“He’s taken,” Charlie says, as comfortingly as she can manage. But Sarah just looks confused.

“Okay?” Sarah looks like she’s about to say something else when her phone rings. “Oh, sorry, this is work,” she says after glancing at her phone. “It was great to see you, Charlie.”

“Yeah, you too,” Charlie lies hopelessly.

Sarah leaves the store to take the call and Charlie gets back to her shopping list.

Honestly, the Sarah encounter isn’t the bad thing. It’s just one of many moments that end up putting her on edge.

Running into her actual ex, Gilda, and Gilda’s new girlfriend the freaking Victoria Secret model, now that one is definitely part of the downward swing of her day.

Then there’s the parking ticket - who even knew that ticket inspectors worked on fracking Christmas anyway!

Then there’s a flat tire, and a grumpy and flour covered Dean having to come to her rescue.

Then, after all that, there’s a short circuit on the Christmas lights. And apparently Dean Winchester is a useless romantic and he can’t propose without frelling Christmas lights. Charlie gets ice down her sweater. Great. Just great. And the lights still aren’t working.

There’s an ugly inflatable santa on the neighbor’s lawn. It’s big, and fluffy, and bright and it’s smirking at her. It’s been offending her since the day it went up, even though their place it just as tackily decorated.

It’s stupid. It’s stupid and it shows she spends too much time with Winchesters. In her frustration, Charlie hits the Santa right in it’s smirky face.

She feels a bit better actually. For five whole seconds. Then, for the second time that day she hears Sarah Blake's voice saying her name. Fuck.

“Charlie?”

“Sarah,” Charlie says, turning to face her teenage fantasy with false brightness.

“Why are you beating up my parent’s hideous lawn ornaments?”

“Um. It’s a long story?”

“Fair.” Sarah nods, as if hitting inflatable Santas makes some kind of innate sense and thus doesn’t really require much explanation. “So, um I better-” Sarah indicates the neighbor’s house. Sarah’s parents house. Of freaking course.

Charlie winces. “Yeah, um sorry about Santa.”

Sarah just laughs it off. She really is basically perfect. It’s all a bit much.

It takes another fifteen minutes to get the breaker reset and the lights set back up. She makes sure the ‘will you marry me’ ones are ready, working but not on. Because she prides herself on being a great wingwoman even if she is in a foul mood.

After dinner, and eggnog, lots of eggnog, Charlie is feeling a bit better.

Dean’s sappy Christmas proposal goes off without a hitch. And Charlie ends up crying a little. But so does Mary Winchester so Charlie feels okay about it. Even Sam sniffles.

Castiel frankly glows, which is sweet. And Dean looks like he’s found out what Heaven means. It’s all sickeningly cute. The eggnog is good, so is the food. Everyone has a great time. And Charlie is feeling much better by the time the guests are all going home.

In fact, Charlie is such a good wingwoman that she sexiles herself to the back porch, once the house is otherwise empty. She loves those boys like breathing, but there are some things she just doesn’t want to know. She’s got the final few swigs from a bottle of fancy whisky, she’ll be fine for an hour or two.

The drink is warm on her throat and the sky is clear. It really is a nice night.

“Hey,” Sarah says from the bottom of the steps. Charlie pretends not to be startled.

“Hey,” she says back, with a whisky soft smile.

“Not for you?” Sarah says, indicating the now glowing lights on the back of the house.

Charlie shakes her head. In the moon and fairy lights Sarah looks almost ethereal. Like some kind of elven princess. That makes Charlie smile. Sarah has always had that effect on her, come to think of it.

“Nah, Dean and Cas. Do you remember Castiel?”

“Oh yeah, of course. I think everyone remembers those two. Glad they worked it out.”

“Yeah, us too,” Charlie offers Sarah the whisky bottle out of politeness but she’s surprised when Sarah accepts and hops the hedge line to join her on the porch steps.

“Thanks.”

They sit there for a while. The moon is full and the air smells like the possibility of unfallen snow. It's nice. It's really nice. There's an owl somewhere.

“So,” Sarah says eventually breaking their companionable silence. “Speaking of people finally acting on their high school crushes?”

Charlie blinks at her.

Sarah points to the roof above them and Charlie looks up. The mistletoe. She’d forgotten about it. And… oh!

Sarah leans in and catches Charlie’s chin. It’s a soft summer warm kiss on a mid-winter night. Charlie gets a little lost in it. The warm skin heat of Sarah and the fresh linen and honeysuckle smell of her.

Sarah’s lips burn warmer than the whisky ever could.

“Wow,” Charlie says when they break apart.

“Was that okay?” Sarah asks, with what must be false modesty because it was amazing.

“Yeah,” Charlie says. “That was kinda perfect.”

“Good.” Sarah says it with a wish perfect smile, and kisses her again. Charlie Bradbury's day just got a whole lot better.


End file.
